Unmemories of a Wedding
by 123serendipitee
Summary: Nick got spectacularly drunk at the wedding, and was rather spectacularly hung-over afterwards. His friends help him piece together his jumbled memories of the night.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: For the approximately five of you who are actually following my stories ;o), you know that I personally prefer to stick pretty strictly to canon. This story marks what I consider to be my first real liberties taken with embellishment on the character development of Nick, but Jess in particular. At this time I don't intend to make it a major thread of my future stories, but for now, I thought it added a nice little knife-twist of angst. Oh, I do so love angst. ;o)**

It was one in the afternoon the day after the wedding before Nick came crawling, like a grumpy bear, out of his cave. Winston was sitting at the table eating cereal, and although it was obvious he hadn't been up long either, he was clearly in much better shape than Nick was.

"Hair of the dog?" Winston asked, as Nick popped open a beer.

Nick didn't answer, just sat down, plopped his cheek down against the cool table, and looked up at his roommate like a dead fish.

"Dude. What happened last night?"

"Aw, man, are you serious? You don't remember?"

"I remember...little bits of...stuff that couldn't possibly have actually occurred."

"Don't bet on it," grinned Winston, "That wedding was the BOMB. Jess ROCKED it!"

"Jess?"

"Dude, she punched that wedding in the_ teeth_! You've seriously got to stop drinking so much, Nick. You don't even remember some of the best times."

"Please just tell me that there is no chance that I did the chicken dance in slow motion, or participated in a contest in which the primary goal was to catch an unbroken bubble on the tip of your nose."

Winston just grinned.

"No, no, NO," moaned Nick. "I made a complete fool out of myself in front of Caroline, didn't I?"

"Well yes," Winston rolled his eyes, "But that's a separate issue entirely."

Just then Jess came breezing through the door, throwing her library bag in the direction of the couch. (Who is still old-fashioned enough to get their books at the LIBRARY? Jess, that's who.)

"Greetings, Mr. Bubble, I boooow to you," she curtsied in Nick's direction. But other than that, she headed straight to throw her arms around Winston, who immediately welcomed her into his lap.

"Good afternoon, my lord!"

"And to you, my lady!"

Nick cocked a rumpled and befuddled head at them.

"Oh, haven't you heard Nick? Winston and I are LOVAHS, now!"

"It's true Nick. We've bonded. You should have SEEN this girl last night! She was on fire!"

Jess pantomimed her "ON FIIIRE!" hands, and Winston continued, "Seriously though Jess, I couldn't have won that dance-off without you as my partner. You were inspired...like something possessed."

"Ohhh," she demurred, "Please, it was just a few moves I've been perfecting in front of my mirror at night since age 13. HEY, SCHMIDTY!"

Schmidt drug in, clearly doing the walk of shame, and joined them listlessly. "Hey kids. What's new."

"You mean BESIDES the fact that Jess and Winston are now sitting in a tree?" Nick asked grumpily. The roommates in question just put their heads together and posed cheesily, as if for engagement pictures.

"How was_ your _night?" Jess asked Schmidt cheekily.

"Jess, you know how it was. Please don't ask how it was. Please let's never again speak of the abomination that last night was."

"Oh come on Schmidt, don't throw the baby out with the bathwater...parts of last night were amaaaazing. Tell him! Tell Nick how awesome Jess was!"

Even in his current mood, Schmidt had to smile. "Seriously man?" He asked Nick, "You don't remember?"

"Maybe I just don't want to remember, " Nick mumbled defensively.

Schmidt ignored him. "That was the wedding to end all weddings, man. I have never had so much non-sexual fun in my life. Jess got asked to M.C. two more weddings, and a bat mitzvah.

Jess nodded confirmation. Nick was still confused.

"Jess...what? Jess M. the wedding?" Just how drunk had he been?

"No man, but...nevermind, you just had to be there. I mean, obviously you were there, but..." Schmidt pantomimed drinking from a bottle.

"Ok did you people ever stop to think that drinking also helps me forget stuff I don't _want_to remember?"

"Yeah," Winston said, "But most of the moments you need to forget probably wouldn't ever even occur if you weren't drinking to begin with."

A sudden silence squelched the previous light mood, until Jess popped up out of Winston's lap, saying, "Whew, uh, heavy stuff, yeah...I'm just gonna go put my books away in my room. Anyone up for Chinese tonight?"

"Eat out or take out?" asked Schimdt.

"Eat out."

"Naw, I don't think I'm ready to be seen in public yet. Not until I've conducted all 12 steps of the ritual cleansing that will purify me from the debauchery of last night."

Their voices faded away as they headed to their respective rooms, leaving Nick and Winston alone at the table together again.

Winston was the first to break the awkward silence. "Look...Nick...I'm sorry..."

But Nick stood up, interrupting him, "Naw man. It's all good. I'm a drunk. I do drunk things and don't remember them the next day. I'm used to it. Just tell me what I absolutely have to know before I see Caroline again, and no more. But not right now. I can't do this right now." And he disappeared towards his room as well, leaving Winston shaking his head over his cheerios.


	2. Chapter 2

Winston wisely chose to let Nick sleep it off awhile longer, and didn't tap on Nick's door again until almost 6:00.

"Hey man, I know what you're gonna say, but Jess wants me to ask: You up for Chinese?"

Nick groaned. "Seriously, maybe if it was just you and me, but I don't think I can handle Jess right now."

The lady in question popped her head in under Winston's arm and whispered brightly, "Ok, just so you know, I'm standing right here. Just thought you should know that. Right here. As in, I can hear everything you're saying. Ok...carry on." And her head disappeared again.

Winston shook his head at Nick with a rueful smile, and said, "So, you're sure then?"

"Ooooh, I'm sure!" said Nick, more confidently than ever, as he threw an arm over his eyes.

DEFINITELY not in the mood for Jess.

...

So it was around 8:00 when Winston knocked on Nick's door again, and this time he just walked in, said, "Watch your eyes,", flicked on the floor lamp, quietly handed Nick a huge glass of water, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Dude, how many times have we done this."

"Way too many times dude."

They let the silence sit on them awhile, in the way that dudes are comfortable doing, until Nick finally said, "Ok. I'm ready. Hit me with it."

"I don't know Nick," Winston said, "I mean...there's a LOT. I'm not sure I even know where to start."

"Just tell me quick...did I kick the groom in the crotch?"

"It was just a cardboard cut-out."

"Did I tell the bride she had a big butt?"

"Well, yes, but just on video, and I'm sure it will never make it to the final cut."

Nick sighed in relief, sat up straighter, and took a long drink of water. "Ok then, seriously, hit me with it. I can handle anything else."

Winston raised his eyebrows as if he wasn't so sure, but handed Nick his phone. "Here, let's just ease into it with some pictures, and see if any of these jog some of your memory cells."

Nick started scrolling though. "WOW...big..fancy...everything was so big and fancy."

Winston nodded.

"HEY, there we are, the three amigos! That's a good-looking group of guys right there. Well, I might look a little like Columbo, but other than that..."

...he scrolled...

"Dang! Who's the hot...HOLY HECK, is that Jess? Ewwww, I'm going to need a shower, now! I feel like I just lusted after my own sister!"

"Yeah, well, you really need a shower anyway," Winston said with a grimace.

Nick cocked the phone at a different angle, and said, "Wow, I remembered she had on purple, and looked great, but...GEEZ..."

"Yeah, it's a good picture...just keeping clicking..."

"Who the hell is that bratty looking kid?"

"Another story for another time, man..."

"He's a snappy dresser, though..."

"KEEP CLICKING..."

"Geez, Jess was all over me. OH NO, DEAR GOD, PLEASE TELL ME nothing happened between me and Jess!"

"NAW man, she was just playing up that fake girlfriend role..."

"OH, THANK GOD MAN. Damn, my heart is in my throat. Seriously, I don't care how drunk I ever get, you better stop me before I ever do anything _that _stupid. Like seriously...find a ball bat, and knock me out, man."

Winston just snorted softly, and shook his head, while Nick fell silent for a few thoughtful seconds before asking, "Did they serve yams at that reception?"

"What?"

"Because I have a distinct memory of yams...something about yams...WAIT! Is that Caroline? In the background?" Nick sat straight up in bed and began tilting the phone at all angles, trying to find the best light.

"Here," Winston sighed in resignation, and he showed Nick how to expand that part of the screen.

"WOW, that's a thing? You can do that? That's amaz..." and then he was lost for several beats, while he drank in the image of his old girlfriend.

"She looked really nice."

"Yes, she did."

"I remember that now...I remember her smelling really nice too...and we spent a lot of time together, talking...and laughing." Nick sat in deep thought for a few seconds before asking wistfully, "Did that really happen, or did I just dream it?"

"Yeeeeeah, it happened..." Winston drawled out cautiously.

"Crap, that doesn't sound good."

"Look Nick...here's the thing," Winston said, taking back his phone, and cutting to the chase. "She led you on, you found out she has a boyfriend, and you got really drunk."

"That's it."

"Oh nooo, that's not IT. But that summarizes 'it'."

Nick pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut tight, before asking in a quiet, embarrassed voice, "Dude, I'm going to have to have more than that, you know that. Who _did _I punch this time? How much money did I lose? Did I end up getting kicked out? What is the likelihood that I'm going to be sued by someone?"

"Dude you realize the fact that you even have to ask these questions means there's a problem."

"Just...give me the hard facts," Nick said grimly, closing the door on the "there's a bigger issue here that we really need to talk about" conversation.

"Well, you spent a little time being drunk and disorderly, 'crazy uncle' style. Then you sobered up long enough to have what looked like a reasonably mature conversation with Caroline during which we can only hope you put COMPLETE closure on that relationship. And then you drank some more and proceeded to have a really great time, the rest of the night."

"Without Caroline?"

"Without Caroline."

Nick was quiet for a minute. "Any pictures of that portion of the evening?"

"Dude, I was too busy getting my party on. But I'll tell you this...you really need to be nicer to Jess. You don't realize it, but she's a really good friend to you."

"I know, Winston."

"No, I don't think you do. She really cares about you. You're lucky to have her around."

"Geez, did you fall in love with her last night, or what?"

"I might have," Winston smiled, "just a little bit!" And he got up and moved towards the door. "You ok man?"

"Yeah, I'm ok. You sure that's all I need to know?"

"Oh I have a feeling there's a lot more stuff you _need _to remember, but that's all I can really help you with. The rest is just going to have to come to you on your own."

Winston turned off the light and left him in the dark again. Nick took another deep drink of water, considered that he really ought to get up and take a shower, and then laid back down.

He shut his eyes really tightly again, and did his best to remember what had happened with Caroline. He wanted to remember more of the talking...and the laughing...and her sitting really close to him, smelling really good, and smiling like old times. Later would be soon enough to process the fact that apparently she had another boyfriend now. Right now, all he wanted to do was sink into a fantasy world where he and Caroline lock eyes across a crowd of wedding-goers, and know that they are destined to reunite.

Trouble was, there was a girl in a purple dress hovering at the edge of all his fantasies, looming around the edges of his consciousness and occasionally zooming in and interrupting at all the worst moments, like a pesky mosquito. He kept trying to slap the thought of her away, but it was hard. And besides, she really did look beautiful.

Even with...WHAT THE HECK?...where was this image of Jess with crazy Bubba teeth coming from?

This time, Nick thought, maybe his friends were right...maybe he DID need to start drinking less. Because the flashbacks were just becoming bizarre.


	3. Chapter 3

Somewhere in that hazy land between sleep and wake, where everything makes perfect sense, Nick finally remembered, "OOOh. That's right. Prop teeth." And just that one little returned memory seemed to set the world a little more straight on its axis.

And then thesounds and smells of waffles and bacon and coffee inspired his stomach to remind him that he'd barely eaten the day before.

He yawned and stretched, mentally assessing his tolerance level for both Schmidt and Jess. Not only did he deem facing them worth it, in exchange for a hearty breakfast, but he actually thought he might be missing the little buggars.

Go figure.

So he shuffled in in his boxers, and was thankful when his roommates had better sense than to make a big deal out of it, other than Schmidt muttering under his breath, "It lives again..."

Jess merely smiled at him and poured him an orange juice, while Winston, busy conquering the waffle iron, pretty much ignored him.

When no one talked to him on mornings like this, he found it made him start kinda wishing that they would.

Funny how that worked.

And funny how they had that figured out.

He sniffed ruefully, and took his first sip of the liquid sunshine that Jess had poured him. It felt like goodness flowing into his bones, and he sat a little straighter, and actually said, "Thank you" to the cup of coffee that Jess had ready to offer him for a chaser.

She waited until the first swallow of the rich black liquid was curling in his stomach, before she asked, "You up for some breakfast?"

Soon the table was clattering with plates and silverware, and "OOPS, let me get some more milk", until they were finally all seated, and tucking into the meal with gusto.

"May I say," lauded Jess, "that these are some MIGHTY fine waffles, Winston. One might even say, perfect!"

Winston beamed, but Schmidt protested, "Excuse me, any chimp with half a wit can operate a waffle iron. I believe the real credit lies in the secret batter that I've spent years perfecting."

"Speaking of chimps," Jess mock-whispered, "Look at Nick."

He was simultaneously scratching his beard, ruffling the already mussed hair on his head, and yawning-but he froze when he realized he was the object of his roommate's giggles.

"He does look decidedly ape-like, doesn't he?" Schmidt asked.

"Nick," Jess teased, "Now I'm_ positive _that that was your cousin we saw at the zoo!"

"You guys went to the zoo?" Winston exclaimed. "Aw HELL no, when was this? I love me some zoo!"

"Hey, that reminds me," Schmidt said. "Jess, what are we going to do today?"

"WELL!" said Jess. "I wasn't going to push the issue, but now that you asked...!"

"Wait," Nick interrupted, "Why does Jess get to pick what you're doing today?"

"It's not what 'YOU'RE' doing," Winston corrected, "It's what WE'RE doing."

"'We're', as in, you and Schmidt, right?"

"No, WE, as in US ALL. All of us who live here. US'IN'S. We bet Jess that she couldn't do the sprinkler, in a complete 360, while hopping on her left foot. If she was successful, we promised we'd do anything she wanted, today."

"Okay, well, this was your bet, I had nothing to do with it. So count me out."

"Umm, actually Nick...the whole bet was your idea," Jess said, waving her last dripping forkful of waffle at him sassily.

"Oh Gaaaawd," Nick said, dropping his face down into his hands.

"Yep!" affirmed Winston, "And you know what else buddy? I think it's finally time to tell you something else...I think you're strong enough to hear this now..." He slapped a hand on his old friend's shoulder, and said with low intensity, "YOU...Nick Miller...are the one who started the slow-motion chicken dance!"

"Shoot me. Just shoot me now," Nick said without lifting his head.

"Oh COME ON," Schmidt exploded, "that was genius, man! I would give ANYTHING to be known as the guy who started the slow-motion chicken dance! That shit was epic! That's what got the whole party started! Are you serious you don't remember that? Nick, I SWEAR, you forget the best things, sometimes!"

"Oh, I remember...bits and pieces."

"And in your memory," Winston prodded, "Are you having fun?"

"Well yeah...in my memory..."

"TRUST ME," Jess said happily, "it was the BEST!" She was returning from the kitchen with another waffle, and on her way back she dropped a couple of extra pieces of bacon on his plate, and a kiss on the top of his head.

Nick finally lifted his head to react with a swipe at his hair, and one of his faces, but Winston just nodded and confirmed, "That's exactly how good it was, buddy. I could kiss you too. In fact, I think I will." He grabbed his friend's head and before Nick could respond, slapped a kiss right on top of it.

"I HAVE ISSUES ABOUT MY HEAD! EVERYONE LEAVE MY HEAD ALONE!" Nick was protesting, but Schmidt was now in on the action, and the breakfast dishes were jumping all around the table in the melee that followed, with Jess yelling, "BOYS! Watch the orange juice!"


	4. Chapter 4

The guys all did the required and expected grumbling when Jess announced that her activity of choice was a PICNIC, but the truth was, it was a beautiful day for it.

"I've had my eye on this park for a long time," said Jess, "But I was saving it for a special occasion." And funnily enough, coming from Jess, this seemed like a perfectly sane and reasonable statement.

"It's nice," admitted Nick, as Schmidt and Winston wasted no time in getting a game of frisbee going. A pair of pretty joggers were lapping the park, so Schmidt, of course, already has his shirt off. "The engine hasn't even cooled on the car," mumbled Nick.

"Hmmmm?"

"Nothing. Hey, where you want this basket...it's getting kinda heavy."

"Right HERE," announced Jess happily, as she climbed up a tiny knoll and happily surveyed a dark velvet patch of clover, in the shade of a giant oak tree.

Nick watched her spread out the huge quilt that she'd been lugging under her arm. Ridiculously, she was wearing a spring green gingham dress with a full skirt and an eyelet flounce, capped off with tiny puff sleeves. Of course, Nick couldn't have told you any of that. All he knew was, she looked adorable. And so of course he said,

"Hey Jess, I'm confused...are we supposed to blow our noses on your dress, or eat off of it?"

"Hardy har, mister! You don't like my dress? I bought it at a thrift store, because it just screamed 'picnic' to me."

"Wow," he said, finally setting down the basket, "This is a lot of pressure. The perfect park. The perfect weather. The perfect dress. I sure hope we can make this live up to your fantasy of the perfect picnic!"

"Oh Nick," she said, with glowing eyes, "Anything I do with you guys is perfect. You're my favorite people in the world!"

Every time she said things like that it made him squirmy, so he excused himself to join the guys playing frisbee. She just smiled her madonna-like smile, pulled a book out of the basket, and sat looking like a little puddle of sherbet perfection until they rejoined her, hot, sweaty, and out of breath. Nick, of course, headed straight for the cooler, and broke out the beers.

"Are they looking this way, man?" huffed Schmidt. "Are they checking me out?"

"Schmidt, those are a couple of soccer moms!" Winston said in exasperation.

"Who cares, man, they're MILFs".

"Oh gawd," said Nick, "You got the doucebag jar in that basket, Jess?"

"Yeah," interjected Winston, "What DO you have in that big-ass basket?"

"Well I'll be HAPPY to show you," Jess chirped, and began unpacking the makeshift feast.

The guys, even Schmidt, happily munched on the odds and ends she'd lovingly thrown together for them, remarking how much better everything tasted when you ate it outside.

"I don't remember the last time I ate sitting on the ground," Nick said. "I feel like a damn pioneer. I feel like the west is mine for the taking."

"Back in Latvia..." Winston began, but was drowned out by the hoots of his friends. His "back in Latvia" stories were becoming famous.

"We need a 'back in Latvia' jar", Schmidt said.

"Oh Winston, ignore them...tell your story!" Jess encouraged.

"Oh forget it now! I'm not in the mood! NOPE, forget it...the moment's passed!"

While Jess was trying to sooth Winston's ruffled feathers, Nick was idly looking at her feet. She'd slipped off her shoes, and her little toes were still topped with purple polish. Nick had a sudden flashback to her painting them in the backseat of the manbulance on the way to the wedding, with Schmidt, of course, predictably kvetching about it.

_"JESS, you're wearing closed-toed shoes! No one's even going to know if your toes match your dress!"_

"I'LL know!" she'd countered.

"Hey Jess," Nick asked suddenly, "Did you do some kind of Robot Mime dance at the wedding?"

"Let's just save you some time here, Nick," said Schmidt. "We could play this all day long, like a game of freakin' MadLibs. Did Jess do the {crazy adjective} followed by {funky noun} dance at the wedding? The answer is, yes, yes she did. Whatever you can possibly think of, she did it."

"And spectacularly, I might add," grinned Winston.

"Okay, but...teaching the bride's extremely uptight father to do the cabbage patch...my mind is just making that one up, right?"

"HAROLD!" Jess exclaimed fondly. "He was just a_ little _uptight, Nick. I've met tougher cases," she teased him, with a fond rumple of his hair.

"Seriously, MY HEAD people! Leave it alone!"

Schmidt watched as a couple of hot chicks strolled by with their dogs, and then nudged Winston. "Time to toss the football around man."

"Yep!"

And they were gone.

"What's wrong Nick, don't you want to take off your shirt and flex your base in front of those girls?" teased Jess.

"Schmidt and Winston obviously didn't have the extra slice of pie that I did," Nick said, laying back on the quilt and resting his hands on his "little pooch".

They shared a companionable silence for a few minutes, until Nick finally said, "Jess?"

She'd picked up her book and started reading again, and she didn't look up as she asked, "Hmmmm?"

"Thanks for being my date at the wedding."

She sniffed sadly, "I'm not sure I did my job very well."

"I think you must have done ok. I do have a distinct memory of telling you that you were remarkable, at one point. And I don't think it had anything to do with dancing."

She laughed softly, and said, "Still remembering things, huh?"

"Yeah...that's how it works...things will come back to me in fits and snatches for a couple of days, until I finally remember everything I'm going to remember."

She didn't answer, but her silence was so loud that he heaved himself up and said, "Ok...well...I'm going back in for more humiliation," and jogged out to rejoin his buddies.


	5. Chapter 5

"Once again, thanks to Jess, I got two new sets of digits today!" Schmidt gloated. They were all home, showered, and ready for bed, tiredly but happily eating ice cream around the same table they'd started the day at.

"I've had a profound realization," Schmidt continued. "We're sitting on a gold mine here," he gestured towards Jess. "It's elementary: Chicks know where chicks like to go. Where is it going to be next week, Jess? Quilting bee? Day spa? Book club? I think I could really add a lot to a discussion of 'Shades of Grey'."

"Schmidt," Winston pointed out, "One of those 'digits' is from a 55 year old lady."

"Please Winston, do I have to explain the term 'cougar' to you? The concept reached peak popularity while you were in Latvia! Google it!"

"JAR!" dictated his friends, and Nick shouted over his shoulder, "And put an extra one in there for 'MILF', while you're at it."

"And QUILTING BEE!" added Jess.

"And SHADES OF GREY, dammit!" added Winston.

Schmidt grumbled, stuffed the jar, and headed off to brush his teeth before bed.

"All I gotta say is," said Winston, "Girl knows how to rock a wedding, and she knows how to throw a picnic. My favorite touch, for the record, was the ukelele. When you pulled that out, it was over...that picnic was slam-dunked!"

"Geez Winston, just ask her to marry you and get it over with!" groused Nick.

"Oh, don't worry Nick, "Jess assured him, "It won't last. It never does. I'm sure I'll be getting on his nerves again soon, if experience is any indicator."

"You, my wild poppet? Say it isn't so!"

"GO TO BED WINSTON!"

"FINE," said Winston, "but not before I do this." And he acted like he was going to lean down to put a kiss on Jess's cheek, before darting to the side at the last minute to lay one on Nick's.

Winston just ignored the wind-milling and spitting and sputtering that followed, and calmly took himself off to bed, passing Schmidt in the process.

"Schmidt."

"Winston."

"Nick".

"Jess".

"Schmidt."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

And then it was just Nick and Jess, idly clinking their spoons in the pools of melted ice cream in the bottom of their bowls.

"Jess...I have one more foggy memory that I need to ask you about, but it's really weird. I can't make heads or tails out of it, so I keep thinking that it must just be something I dreamed-but something about it keeps seeming so real."

"Hmmm?"

"Okay...it's like...Don't laugh!...It's like...I was living in a really tiny house and you came to visit me, and I was really happy to see you, and was showing you around. But the house was so small that we were just crammed in there with no room to move, like something from Alice in Wonderland..."

"Oooh, Nick. You really do have to stop drinking so much," she said in disappointment. Later he would kick himself to recall the hurt already visible in her eyes at that point. But just then, he didn't give himself time to process it. He was too busy latching on to her next words: "You don't remember the best things!"

"DAMMIT, why does everyone keep telling me that?" Nick exploded, a flash of anger propelling him up and out of his seat. But the sound of her spoon being dropped in alarm made him look at Jess. Her little body, already swallowed up in pink pajamas, seemed to be curling in on itself in effort to disappear, and her face was frozen mid-wince.

He was standing now, and didn't know what else to do, so he gently gathered up their bowls and carried them to the sink, rinsing them, not just so he wouldn't have to hear Schmidt rant and rave about it in the morning, but also to give himself a few extra seconds to think the thoughts he was thinking. He was a little slow catching on, sometimes, probably mostly due to the distracting dangley bits hanging between his legs. But a grim realization had just hit him, clear as day.

He wasn't _completely_ obtuse.

When he finally turned back to Jess, she was still sitting dejectedly at the table, mindlessly worrying at the cuff of her pjs. She was obviously far, far away from him at that moment, and whether it was some trick of the light, he didn't know, but suddenly she looked like she was about 10 years old sitting there, half-buried under that mountain of hair, and he had to ask:

"Jess...who drank, in your family?"

She sat there so quiet and still for so long he started to think she hadn't even heard him, before she finally answered, "My dad."

_son of a bitch_

He breathed in, and he breathed out, deeply, and wished he could be a better man than the one who had obviously hurt her in the past. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, but he didn't know for what. He wanted to tell her that he_ did _remember whatever it was that she was sad that he didn't remember...but he just didn't, hard as he tried.

So then he wanted to tell her the crazy, nonsensical stuff he DID seem to remember, which was that the Tiny House was rather pathetically sad until she got there (in spite of all the paparazzi gathered outside, taking pictures through his window). And that once she arrived, a little candle of hope had started glowing, until he finally believed he was strong enough to climb out of his box, and really live.

That's what he wanted to tell her. But he couldn't. So he just dropped a wordless kiss on the top of her head on his way to bed.


End file.
